Mine, Now
by Jigoku Shojo Yuki
Summary: An Xmas gift I wrote for my beta, and proof of the dysfunctional place my brain is. Seto/Jou, and don't mind the orignal characters. Please.


†

Disclaimer:

The author, with all due respect, makes credit where it's due to the evil genius of Takahashi Kazuki, Toei Animation, TV Asahi and Studio Gallop—including **all **script, characters, plot/subplot/movie plot henceforth. The author garners absolutely no money from this piece. The Author has credit card debt BUT would NEVARR resort to thievery—especially such a highly recognized anime. The author makes absolutely no claims to the copyrighted materials contained in this fictional work of literature. 

**IN SHORT:**

**[x] NOT MINE**

**[x] NOT MINE**

**[x] SOOOOO not mine.**

PS: I realize I have bent the plot to serve my own crazed purposes. This should, in no way, influence readers to believe that the events described in this "fanfiction" honestly occur as any plot line(s) of YU-GI-OH! progresses in the way the original, forenamed copyright holding authors intended. **At all.**

**I'M GOING TO SAY IT NOW.**

**This work of FICTION….FANFICTION….contains**

**YAOI.**

**}hawt sweaty PWP yummy man+man acshunz.**

**IF THIS ISN'T **

**WHAT YOU CAME HERE FOR**

**NOW IS YOUR CHANCE TO RUN AWAY SCREAMING…!**

To my Beta Angie, who is going to eat this fanfic like a raw oyster.

¹In doing some research {Google.}, the uniforms I originally intended to use were a shot in the dark and correct for a person whose job was to collect forensic evidence at a crime scene. Yeah. There's not much I can find about EMTs in Japan, aside from here [.com/japan-life/calling-an-ambulance-in-japan/]. ²The Author does **not **condone or promote the use of narcotics or drug paraphernalia, ever. It's only funny in fanfiction, where no one gets truly hurt. 3Yes, this can be done with precious gems and paint and certain resin. 4They're Sferra brand sheets.

**Flames will be used to toast marshmallows, and the author**_** loves**_** toasted marshmallows. 3**

Steel-blue eyes stared intently at the computer screen, squinting in the darkness as his gaze scanned the open program's window in front of him. The room was unlit and cool, exactly how he liked it—the only sounds filling the room being the gentle click of plastic computer mouse, the tapping of a keyboard, the fan of a desktop computer terminal. A convenient pink noise machine sat in the corner, the footsteps and voice of his highly efficient but unnecessarily noisy secretary filtered out to create a calm and serene environment that just begged to be interrupted.

It usually was.

Ɣ

_**Mine, now**_

He blinked but continued to concentrate, and was so absorbed in what he was doing that he was actually quite surprised when he suddenly heard her voice, a harsh American accent ringing from every word.

"MISTAH KAI-BAH, YA GOTCHASELF A VISITAR."

The card-game magnate used the surprised jump to right himself into a standing position, the bang of the spinning office chair hitting a filing cabinet puncturing his hearing like a fork to the ear. A hand immediately found his chest, feeling for his beating heart through his new form-fitting Armani Collezioni three-button suit while his other hand gripped the metal desktop, scratching the polished surface as he forced himself to calm down. Once the moment passed, a finger shot out to stab the plastic button of the speaker from whence the startling noise had come.

"You're fired."

The speaker buzzed again, this time her normal voice in smooth lilting Japanese flowing melodiously from the electronic device.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, sir. Your afternoon delight is here. He brought frosting and sani-wipes today."

He ran his fingers through his hair, both hands massaging his scalp and exhaling slowly.

"I thought we talked about this," he began, bending to collect his chair and upright it. "We use code-words now."

"I couldn't hear you over the sound of my vacation hours being sliced. I'm buzzing him in."

Before he could protest, a soft ping announcing the elevator's arrival rang, followed by the smooth, polished metal-and-glass sound of the doors sliding open. He turned, shielding his eyes at once from the soft light of his personal elevator. He completely regretted informing his secretary of its existence—though as usual, the sight of his beloved distracted him from actual anger. The tall form of the blond haired hazel-eyed man stepped from the elevator, trademark devil-may-care smirk melting the very marrow of Kaiba's bones. Katsuya Jonouchi, his one-time rival and high school classmate, now standing before him on the two-year anniversary of their relationship. (Though Kaiba feigned his forgetfulness of the day's importance, he honestly did feel like a rat for not being able to rearrange his schedule. His secretary he completely expected this from, but his usual no-nonsense assistant was uncharacteristically sloppy as of recently.)

Jonouchi stepped slowly and lightly from the elevator, his eyes adjusting to the light difference and his hands full of take-out bags.

"Hey," he said softly, placing the food containers on a small nearby table and taking those last few sips of his bubble tea before tossing the empty plastic cup into a wastebasket.

His back was momentarily towards Kaiba.

Suddenly the elevator doors snapped closed, and they were alone in the cold dark office.

The wall behind him came up to meet Jou's head as Kaiba closed the sizable distance between them with a few broad steps, shoving and spinning his lover to face him. Using his broader frame, he pinned Jou to the wall, pushing a knee between his legs and crushing his lips in a needy and passionate kiss. His tongue slipped into the younger man's, and he could taste the bitter tea and sweet lychee wrapped together, lingering in Jou's mouth. Kaiba deepened the kiss, his hands working into Jou's hair and gripping his jaw. The moans that elicited from his lover were going straight to his cock, making his designer fitted pants tighter and hotter. He moved his knee to spread Jou's legs, granting him better access as he began to grind their hips together. Jou broke the kiss to moan louder, eyes clouded with want and vapor hanging from his words. Though he knew it was useless to return the thrusting movements, he did so anyway, enjoying Kaiba's reaction—which was to pin his hips to the wall and force him still.

"Seto…lunch is getting cold…"

…_focus…_

In one swift movement his perfectly lined suit-coat left Kaiba's shoulders and landed atop the end table that held their would-be meal.

Jou wrapped his arms around Kaiba, pulling him closer and nipping at his neck playfully.

He was rewarded with a low, possessive growl that sent shivers of anticipation through Jou's very being. Seto trailed small kisses and bites from his lips to his chest, where he paused to snake a hand underneath the flimsy cotton shirt. Their lips met again, Seto's fingers toying with Jou's sensitive nipples and drinking in the reaction.

"Kaiba…I…don't think I can hold…it back…"

_FOCUS._

Jou threw back his head as Kaiba's next move was to bite the fragile zipper of his well-worn jeans and part the teeth one by one. A few torturous moments later, Seto was teasing Jou's cock through his boxers, pushing the rough fabric with his tongue over the engorged and weeping head. Jou whimpered as Kaiba sucked and grazed his teeth over his erection, and felt a violent orgasm building steadily under his boyfriend's careful and loving ministrations.

"Need you, Seto….please…"

Pink noise machine or not, Jou's cries of pleasure filled the room as Seto ripped the unfortunate undergarment from Jou's hips to swallow his pre-cum soaked cock whole. His tongue slipped to the underside of the organ, teasing delicate skin and nerves.

Jou screamed his lover's name as the orgasm rippled through his body, emptying his liquid climax down the throat of the most powerful man in the business world. Lights flashed behind his eyes as he slid down the wall, Kaiba's mouth still full of his cock. When the blond man stopped shaking and gasping, their lips met in a heated kiss that spoke of temptation and intense physical want for each other.

"I love you, Seto Kaiba."

In-between lip locks and tonguing each other's mouth, he responded.

"I love you more, Katsuya Jonouchi."

And as the smaller man shifted his weight to lay atop his beloved, he reached underneath the discarded suit-coat and into the plastic bag he'd brought with him. His fingers found the largest of the Styrofoam containers, opened it, and withdrew the sterile cloth from inside. Palming the white square, he re-approached Kaiba and situated himself above the other man.

He moved the cloth from his coat sleeve, pulling it slowly until it unfolded.

"My darling…can I ask you something…"

The card-game magnate in question closed his eyes, preparing for reciprocation.

"What is it," he purred.

Jou leaned forward and shoved the tainted cloth over Kaiba's nose and mouth.

"Does this smell like chloroform to you?"

And suddenly Kaiba's world went upside down, a vengeful stare fixed on his face as the edges of his vision blurred to darkness.

A few seconds later, Jou removed the cloth and stroked his beloved's angry face. "I'll pay for this later, I know." He pressed his lips to Kaiba's in a soft kiss, and the sneer on his face began to slowly melt.

The delicate silence was interrupted with a literal bang as the elevator doors were met with the sides of an ambulance gurney. Jou looked up, watching as a young Japanese woman pushed and shoved the wheeled stretcher, her light blue hair clashing severely with the beige color of her Emergency Medical Technician uniform blouse and charcoal-gray slacks. A headset was hidden underneath the government-issue white plastic helmet, with the name of a prestigious hospital facility printed along the circumference. She spoke rapid instructions into a mouthpiece as she entered the room, quickly braking alongside the unconscious form of Seto Kaiba and lowering the contraption to his level. The gurney had a small bag resting atop it, bearing the logo of a local convenience store. Jou didn't have to see what was in the bag—he knew it was a matching uniform, helmet and all. Now clear of the elevator, it sent itself away, and she glared as she threw the bag at his head.

"Get dressed, we have work to do."

Jou did as he was told, slipping the uniform on over his clothes as Kaiba's secretary prepared the syringe.

When he awoke he felt as though he was drowning at the bottom of a pool, half-conscious and submerged beneath tens of thousands of gallons of cool crystalline water. Though unable to move or speak, his breathing was steady and he could hear and see—though it was muffled, and he couldn't quite focus. The world came to him in pieces, a blurred and fragmented series of events. There was an ambulance ride, which he could merely guess because the van he was loaded into by his secretary and his boyfriend was driven by his assistant and there was no scramble to pull him up for air. They were dressed in uniform, but they weren't taking him to a hospital. He could very faintly hear his soon-to-be-ex-secretary and his soon-to-be-ex-assistant argue back and forth with his we'll-talk-about-this-later-boyfriend. Though he couldn't put a coherent thought together he could pick out the wavering commitment to the entire farce of a kidnapping in his beloved's voice. He wanted to scream, to stop this, to turn this thing around and CHOKE A BITCH.

But for all of his anger, he was still paralyzed and strapped down with no choice other than to lay there and let himself be given another burning injection by his secretary.

He wondered briefly how many of those she had used.

The world faded away again, the drowsiness unbearable.

It was a scene out of Jonouchi's darkest fantasy.

After a confession (that was blurted out accidentally in a conversation about turn-ons) that became weeks that became months of incredible secrecy, after near-misses, money changing several pairs of hands to please look the other way and the erosion of Jou's moral fiber—the moment was finally his to savor. Every last detail had to be perfect. It had taken a full day to make sure that everything was going to fall into place, but when it was put together things went off like the improbable plot of a movie. Jou's final visit before Kaiba's office was the Human Resources wing of the building, to slip in resumes of body guards and secret-service-wannabes. The whole plan was put together and executed far too easily, though really it was part of sending out some good karma to balance out the very bad things he had planned.

All of which had led to this single moment of truth.

He opened his eyes slowly, taking in the sight.

The room was dark and soundproof. Tea candles floating in tiny decorative glass bowls of colored water set the mood, with delicate blue shadows cast along the walls. The only furniture in the room was an incredibly large bed that was as imposing as it was beautiful, and it was purposefully arranged in the middle of the room. The teak wood four-poster frame was hand-carved, sharply detailed dragons fighting along the upper-half of the frame. Crushed ruby powder painted along their mouths and claws like gem-stone blood was the added touch he knew Kaiba would appreciate after the initial urge to shank Jou. Which Jou had been assured would subside once the special side effect of the paralytic they'd used kicked it.

The mattress had taken weeks to find since the frame was so huge, and sheets had actually been made for the occasion—Egyptian cotton spun in Italy with a very very nice thread count as a result. Or so Kaiba's brother had said, but Jou hadn't been listening.

He had promised to pay back Mokuba, who'd written the checks for pretty much everything. But in Mokuba's words, it wouldn't be fair to Jou since he'd never be able to actually pay him back the tidy sum in three lifetimes—but instead he'd trade his brother's happiness (this would follow the momentary frustration and humiliation, which Mokuba was truly after).

Jou now stared at his beloved, splayed out over the bed unconscious. His ankles were shackled in thick crushed-velvet-lined cuffs, the titanium chains draped over the sides of the bed and snaking underneath—where they'd been welded to the bed's frame, so Kaiba could only spread his legs _wider_. His wrists were bound the same way, but instead of titanium Jou had chosen retractable vinyl-coated steel cable, so Kaiba's arms wouldn't paresthesia but he wouldn't be able to free himself.

He grinned darkly, twisting open a large tube and squeezing.

Steel blue eyes opened slowly, the world coming back into focus for the first time. His entire body felt as though the numbness was slowly evaporating, like smoky breath in the cold. And suddenly he was aware of two things; that he was no longer paralyzed, and while his conscious mind had just woken up his body had been awake for some time. His lower body ached, and the vibrating feeling that enveloped his cock was only amplifying the sensation. As he became more aware of his surroundings, he realized the elaborate punch-line of this series of events he'd been swept into.

Suddenly, all of the clandestine phone calls Jou had been making and all of the suggestively vague text messages from his why-you-little-punk-ass-brother made crystal clear sense.

And it was his anniversary.

A wry grin spread quickly across Seto's mouth, devious plans filling his imagination.

And then he heard a snicker, and the ominous sound of a tiny plastic cap hitting the heavy marble tiles.

The room was dimly lit by what Seto supposed were candles, the flickering light casting colored shadows along the walls. He struggled, unable to move his arms or right himself, and lifted his head.

His eyes widened at the sight of his beloved, who was grinning like a Cheshire about to take over a rival company and sack its president—right before slipping and tying a heavy velvet cloth over his eyes.

Seto, of course, protested.

Tied up (and sightless) though he was, he fought Jou, who fought back with a strength he'd never quite given the blond man credit for. The bed rocked with their thrashing, Seto spewing useless threats and Jou simply covering his mouth with his own. And their naked cocks rubbed against each other, and Seto forgot how to think. All he could do was gasp, let the sensation ride from his belly to his brain and kick it between the lobes. The sweet, divine sensation of his lover's naked erection touching his, the feeling of the vibrating ring around his sensitive member…the synapses fired bright enough for Seto to see dying stars behind his eyes. The gasp turned into a sigh, and he whispered Jou's name slowly as his body tried very unsuccessfully to climax (in spite of strategically placed relationship enhancement toys).

Most of Seto went limp, and Jou shushed and whispered to his lover as Seto rode that high back down.

"That's a much better reaction, my darling."

And then Jou's lips were on his again, his tongue slipping into his mouth and teasing in the same direction as the deliberate movements of his hands. Seto could feel the heat wash over him as he felt Jou deepen the kiss and then the sudden sensation of ten fingers running over his neglected, weeping erection. Seto whimpered, a noise he'd never thought to be capable of and was completely compliant with repeating if only he could feel that again. He was rewarded with a soft chuckle from Jou, a sound so inaudible that he only knew it happened because it happened next to his ear. And then the feeling washed over him again, harder, and Seto cried out and bucked his hips and felt his blindfold moisten with his tears as his body tried to grant him release and he was again denied because of his beloved's deliciously cruel vice wrapped around his erection.

"Jou…"

And immediately he felt a new sensation, the fingers leaving his abused erection and the lips leaving his face—Jou shifted his weight, and the bed shifted. He feared for a moment that Jou was going to leave him there, tied to the bed to go insane for want of release.

Then he felt Jou again, his lips and tongue tickling the underside of his cock in tandem with the vibrations of the cock-ring as wet fingers searched the cleft of his ass. Seto shuddered in anticipation as Jou's oiled fingers slipped inside of him, meeting that tight ring of muscle and resistance.

"You spend too much time in control, sure we have sex on a fairly constant basis and it's probably the first time anyone's been ballsy enough to do this," Jou said softly, emphasizing his words with slow kisses trailing to the head of his lover's erection. Seto's moans and sighs and groans filled the room as Jou continued to tease, using his tongue to torture the other man as he writhed beneath him.

"Let me in."

And then Seto shouted, his cry of sheer pleasure echoing from every corner of the room—and its vaulted ceilings that he was too far-gone to care for—rattling everything except for Jou's resolve. He had taken Seto's erection into his mouth, humming and sucking as hard as he ever could as his fingers delved and prodded into his love, one knuckle and then another. Jou knew that he was pushing Seto far beyond his normal limit, and was fighting his own raging arousal at the sight of his boyfriend.

Mister Complete Control, The Picture of Stoicism Himself…tied up, constrained against the bed they made love over regularly, writhing and panting and crying for more. Because of him. Because Jou had a better idea for an anniversary than dinner at a French restaurant and a movie he wouldn't focus on until they had sex a few times and then Seto would collapse until morning, when everything was all business once again. No, Seto deserved better. Seto needed this as much as Jou, and that gave him the resolve to execute this insane idea that had been a fantasy of his since high school. All Jou had needed was the right secretary with the right amount of crazy.

"Jou…Jou….please….I'm begging you….edges…insanity…need….release…."

Well, he did say 'please'.

Jou pulled away from Seto, fingers and mouth and touch. Seto cried out at the loss, which lasted just long enough for Jou to drench his erection in lubricant and grip Seto's hips for dear life.

And in one swift movement he was deep inside of his Seto, his body a vice grip over his throbbing erection. Jou's mind reeled, and he cried out in pleasure and want and desperate need.

"Fuck me, Jou."

The next few moments were a blur of limbs and sweat and the most passionate kissing they'd ever experienced.

With a flick of his wrist, Jou freed Seto's legs of their bungee harnesses and his very-deserving erection from its confining ring and his eyes from the blindfold. Jou nearly came at the sight of Seto's eyes glazed over in total lust, but steeled himself and grabbed the other man's legs, repositioning himself to hit deeper and harder. And then the lovers gave themselves over to the feeling, holding onto each other as Jou thrust harder and rougher into Seto's willing and able body. When Jou reached between their bodies and gripped Seto's cock, their passion reached its height and the two men orgasmed together, their tired bodies shaking violently and their screams of pleasure shaking the walls of the room. Seto was still writhing beneath Jou as the blond filled him with his climax, before they collapsed in sheer exhaustion in a tangle of sweaty limbs and bodily fluids. Seto's last coherent thought before succumbing to tiredness was how amazing it felt to finally lose his virginity.

**+.+.+.**

Sometime later, never mind how long, Seto slowly opened his steel-blue eyes. He found himself back in his own bed, not Jou's, and he while he was very sore he was unrestrained and wearing a pair of silken boxers. He smiled to himself, and snuggled back into the warmth of the bed.

"I love you, Jou."

The other man wriggled on his side, kissing his lover's neck.  
>"I love you more, Kaiba," he said sleepily.<p>

Owari ne.


End file.
